


Take Me To School

by thatcrazywriterley



Series: Take Me Series [6]
Category: AEW, Adam Page-fandom, All Elite Wrestling, Being The Elite (Web Series)
Genre: Adam and the Golden Horseshoe, F/M, Fluff, The Elite book series, like this is so sweet you'll get cavities, the one where Hangman is good with kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:48:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23440456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatcrazywriterley/pseuds/thatcrazywriterley
Summary: Adam joins Emily at work for visitor day.
Relationships: Adam Page/Emily King (ofc), Adam Page/Original Female Character, Hangman Adam Page/Original Female Character, Hangman Page/Original Female Character
Series: Take Me Series [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670956
Kudos: 2





	Take Me To School

I sat down on the stool at the front of the room. The carpet in front of me had a series of evenly spaced multi-colored dots. Just beyond that was a cluster of four-top tables topped with contact paper and refurbished tin cans filled with crayons. A rowdy hum of children’s voices filled the room as my teaching assistant managed the post-snack bathroom line.

“When I count to three,” I called in a sing-song voice, “where are you going to be?”

A chorus of twenty-seven voices replied. “In our spot and on the dot!”

“One.” I held up a finger. They started forward, falling into three lopsided lines.

“Two.” Up went the second. The lines split off into sections on the carpet as students walked to their assigned space.

“Three.” When the third finger went up, they plopped down with their bottoms on their dots. I grinned at them. “Very good everybody! Remember… crisscross apple sauce. No sticking our legs out, Henry.”

The child in question quickly sat up, folding his legs in. I smiled and gave him a wink.

“Who knows what today is?” I asked as my teaching assistant went to the door. In the small cutout window, I could see Adam’s face. There was a fain grin curling his lips. When I looked back, seven hands were waving in the air. “Sammi, what is today?”

A little girl with red pigtails beamed at being called upon. “Visitor day!”

“Good job! Yes, today is visitor day. And our visitor today has brought some very special books to share with you. Do you know why they’re special?” Twenty-seven heads shook in near unison. I leaned forward as if I was sharing a secret with them. “They’re special because he and his friends _wrote_ them.”

Surprised little gasps and wide eyes greeted that proclamation. I smiled proudly at my students. “Do you remember when we drew our pictures and practiced our letters last week? What did we draw?”

“Horses!”

“Yes, Madeline, we drew horses. And does anyone remember the name of the horse we drew?”

“Stoney!”

“Amazing job, Joshua. Yes, we drew pictures of a horse named Stoney. I gave your drawings to someone very special. And he’s come to read to you today. Are you ready for our visitor to come in?” They nodded. “Remember our rules for visitors, okay?”

I looked up and nodded at my teaching assistant. She pushed the door open for Adam to slip inside. He’d dressed in his favorite grey and burgundy short sleeved baseball shirt, an olive jacket, jeans, and his ever-present brown boots. I couldn’t help but grin when I saw that he’d left his hair down. There was a bright yellow tag over his heart that said _VISITOR_ with his name below it. His blue eyes were wide and excited, even if there was a hint of shyness in his smile.

He clutched three thin hardback books in one hand and waved with the other. My heart skipped a beat. He was absolutely adorable.

“Boys and girls,” I said, drawing their attention back to me, “this is our visitor today. His name is Adam Page. What do we say when we have visitors?”

While the chorus was a little off beat, twenty-seven voices said, “Hello, Mr. Page.”

A blush ran over Adam’s cheeks as he ran a hand through his hair. “Hi,” he replied, beaming at the kids sitting on the carpet. “If it’s okay with your teacher, you can call me Adam.”

A dozen heads turned toward me, eyes alight. It was one of our class rules that we always called adults mister or misses. They had a sudden rush of excitement at being able to call an adult by their first name! “Is it okay to call someone by their first name when they give you permission?”

Bobbing nods. Happy grins. I couldn’t help but grin right along with them. “Then I think it’s okay. What have you brought to read to us today, Adam?”

His grin got bigger, his eyes brighter. “Well… oh!” He looked at the kids as if he’d just realized something. When he looked back at me, there was playful seriousness in his gaze. “May I call you Miss Emily?”

I was blushing. Not only did I feel the heat on my cheeks, but I saw the grin from my assistant. “Yes, you may.”

“Thank you,” he replied, standing up a little straighter and winking at the kids. They giggled. He was winning them over quickly. “Well, Miss Emily, I brought _three_ books today. I couldn’t pick which one to read, so I thought you guys might help me pick.”

“Ah. What do we need to make choices?” I looked at my students, pleased to see that Adam had their full attention. One little girl, Jayda, put her hand up.

“Know what.”

I nodded. “Good. We need to know _what_ our choices are.” I stood up and gestured for Adam to come to the front of the room. He sat down on the stool and propped all three books on the shelf of the white board behind him.

“This one,” he said pointing to the first one, “is about a camping trip where best friends start fighting. This one,” he gestured to the second, “is about two brothers who get picked on. And _this_ one,” he tapped the last one, “is about a treasure hunt.”

He made faces at them. Some of them giggled. “So, who wants me to read about the camping trip?” He stopped and watched hands go up. He looked over at me. “Um, Miss Emily, do you have any really good counters? I forget how to sometimes.”

It was so hard to keep a straight face when he was being so cute. I bit the inside of my cheek before I responded. “Michael has done very well this week. Can you help Adam count?”

Michael bounced on his dot with happiness at being picked. He nodded and stood up, taking a place next to Adam. Slowly and deliberately, Michael counted each of his classmates by pointing at them. Adam followed along, repeating the numbers and looking for everything like he was concentrating very hard on something.

“How many was that again? Five? Okay.” Adam picked up a marker from the white board and wrote a big number four over the first book. “What about the brothers?”

Once again, Michael and Adam counted hands. A big number 8 went over the second book. Once more, Adam asked for votes and they counted.

“It looks like… how many was it, Michael? Oh, right, fourteen—that’s a big number—for the treasure hunt. And fourteen is more than eight or five.” Adam looked around the carpet. “Is it okay if I read the treasure hunt book this time and come back again to read the other two?”

They nodded. Before he started reading, Adam held up his hand for a high-five from Michael. Then Adam picked up the third book and turned sideways to hold the book so all of them could see the pictures.

“Adam and the Golden Horseshoe,” he said, showing them the cover. They chattered about how the kid in the story had the same name as he did. He opened it and started reading. “Adam’s secondhand guitar never left his side…”

***

The students lined up at the door to say goodbye. One by one, they came by to give me a hug or high-five as my assistant took them to the pickup line. When the last one had gotten his double high-five, I sank against the wall. The first few moments after they left were the ones when exhaustion kicked in. I usually gave myself a few minutes to feel it before I pushed through and started working on things for the next day.

I’d completely forgotten that Adam was still there. After he’d finished reading his book, the students begged him to stay for recess. Then they wanted him to stay for station time. By the end of the day, he was sitting in a chair far too small for him playing tea party with a gaggle of girls. At the moment, he was in the back of the room, hanging playtime costumes on pegs along the wall.

He looked up when he realized I was watching him. There was a faint, proud smile on his face when he crossed the classroom toward me. “You’re so amazing at this… with the kids, Em. I could watch you do this all day.”

I beamed in pride. “You’re not so bad with kids yourself, cowboy.”


End file.
